Paper Hearts
by haruhasu
Summary: Stationery AU. USUK. With ink-stained hands, Arthur gave his paper heart to Alfred. However, Alfred is careless and paper is fragile. Of post-its, notes, and love letters. A bildungsroman story of words unsaid, but written.
1. Tear Here

Summary: Stationery AU. USUK. With ink-stained hands, Arthur gave his paper heart to Alfred. However, Alfred is careless and paper is fragile. Of post-its, notes, and love letters.

Warning: Language, suggestive situations, and grammar mistakes. Brief Alfred/Natalia.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.

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**Paper Hearts**

Prologue: Tear Here

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Arthur doesn't like loose leaf paper.

They were easier to misplace, to lose. To forget. Arthur values his thoughts, and thus whatever he writes, he deems valuable and keeps. Most of these, however, gather in his trash bin. Daft thoughts, he calls them.

Arthur prefers spiral-ringed notebooks. They bind his words together in a way that lets him exercise his freedom of control. He's never completely filled out every page, though. By the time he'd reach the last sheet, the notebook would have already lost half its content.

His freedom:

Spiral-ringed notebooks let him rip out what he doesn't want to remember and keep what he likes.

An entry in angry scribbles:

_September 26, 20XX_

_Dear Alfred,_

_You are a dick. I told you not to mess with Ivan's sister. Told you to keep her out of you two's obsessive competition to compare who's a bigger_ asshole._ What did you do? Fuck the girl and have the gall to brag to Ivan. _

_And on that note, please do not text me on the details of how the sex went. I don't care how good of a lay she was, nor how you thought one nipple was bigger than the other. Have some respect for the girl. God, Alfred._

_You know what, you deserve that broken nose. Don't come asking me for help. I'm done. Fuck you._

Hours later, the entry would be crumpled up, and Arthur would be on his way to Alfred's. To play video games or to celebrate pissing Ivan off, he doesn't know.

What he does know:

He is Alfred's best friend and he didn't really mean what he wrote – or at least the latter half of it.

He had scrawled his anger on the paper so hard the pen tip pierced the surface, and the ink tainted the next page. The writing was almost illegible with how his hand was shaking. It didn't help that his vision blurred, his eyes misting and his teardrops further staining his words. He knew he was venting. He was feeling angry, irrational, and _hurthurthurt_.

He rips the entry out with more force than necessary and into the overflowing trash bin it goes with the rest of his frustrations surrounding Alfred.

Idly, he wonders if he could rip his heart out too.

Spiral-ringed notebooks let him rip out what he doesn't want to remember and keep what he likes. If Arthur didn't like Alfred losing his virginity to Natalia, he can rip out that event from the rest. What was once part of a notebook is now a loose leaf.

That way, what he doesn't want to remember is easier to forget.

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Author's Notes: Hello, and thank you for reading! English is my second language, so if you manage to find grammar mistakes, please PM them to me so I can correct them. Otherwise, please review and tell me what you think.

I promise the next chapters will be lighter than this one. I hope.

Haruhasu


	2. New Sheet, First Line

Summary: Stationery AU. USUK. With ink-stained hands, Arthur gave his paper heart to Alfred. However, Alfred is careless and paper is fragile. Of post-its, notes, and love letters.

Chapter Warning: Grammar mistakes and children.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.

A/N: Happy Canada Day! See you at the bottom!

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**Paper Hearts**

Chapter 1: New Sheet, First Line

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Arthur sometimes wonders why the hell he's friends with Alfred.

Like, how the hell did this happen, and _why_ did he let it happen?

These he ponders at night when he especially did not want to do his pre-calc homework.

(He can copy off Kiku's tomorrow; He owes him for his explicated poetry anyway.)

A little photo thumb-tacked at the corner of his room's bulletin board, obscured by most of his graded papers and event reminders, show three baby-faced grins. On its back were the words, "Arthur's first day," and a date.

Arthur wants to weep. His younger self never had a chance. Alfred had latched unto himself like a koala – a possessive, annoying, though charmingly adorable koala.

Ten years from then, and he still hadn't been able to shake him off since.

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If there was one reason Alfred F. Jones sat like a cherub instead of the little devil he really was, it was due to what Teacher Lily said:

Nice, behaved kids get their toys first.

It was a good incentive for proper behavior, Alfred's Teacher thought. And it was indeed.

Hands folded atop the kidney table, back straight, and smile on. All Alfred had to do now was to keep it up for ten more minutes, ten more minutes until play time.

Ten more minutes he'll use to stare at that brand-new still-in-packaging shiny laser gun, the one that every boy in class no doubt wants too.

Ten minutes too long, he inwardly groaned.

_Mine_, said the childish voice in his head. _Totally mine. _

It wasn't that there was a lack of toys for the children to play with at his kindergarten school, that children had to fight each other for who gets what every time. To the contrary, actually. Their toys closet couldn't even seem to close now with how full it was.

Rather, Alfred just plain wanted the laser gun for its novelty.

At one point or another, everything in the toys closet had already been played with. Well, not everything. Alfred didn't touch the Barbie dolls and the tea-cup sets. Only girls touch those, and if you touch those, you get girl cooties.

Cooties were the worst thing you can possibly get, decided Alfred. Alfred didn't really understand what it is, but the boys always start teasing you. They'll keep pushing you into the other girls and won't play with you. He had seen it happen before to his brother, Matthew, when he played with a lonely girl.

Matthew and Alfred were twins. At age five, no one can tell the difference between them. Both have blonde locks, fair skin, and they both have the same physique. In fact, the only difference between them thus far was their eyes, violet and blue hued respectively.

Their first few months with Teacher Lily were full of identity issues. No one could tell them apart. Alfred kept getting called "Matthew" and Matthew kept getting called "Alfred." No one knew who was who, especially when the twins kept to themselves.

The Twins, as they were called, didn't mind though. Their mother, one Amelia Jones, was all up for her unexpectedly doubled bundles of joy. The Twins would come in class, holding hands, ("Take care of each other, darlings!") and sporting the same shirt, the same, pants, the same shoes. And for heaven's sake, they wore the same size in everything. They didn't even label anything with their names since they can just interchange their clothes.

What's Alfred's is Matthew's. What's Matthew's is Alfred's.

Except maybe this toy gun, thought Alfred. He really, really, super-duper wanted it!

Alfred had waited as patiently as he could until the big hand strikes twelve and the little hand is on nine. But Alfred could barely sit still. He held his brother's hand in his excitement. He'll play Superheroes with Matthew!

Alfred's got it all figured out. He'll be the Hero, 'cuz, duh, heroes get the cool powers and stuff! And Mattie will be his trusty side-kick. He won't have any superpowers or a laser gun, though. He's just back up. Maybe he can even rope Ivan into being the bad guy! He doesn't know how exactly he'll win yet, but the good guys always win. His comic books taught him that.

Alfred started fidgeting in his seat, tapping his foot up and down, when Teacher glanced at him. He promptly stopped and gave her a gap-toothed grin.

Alfred knew he was an adorable kid. How can he not when practically every adult who had ever seen him absolutely gush about his baby blue eyes and pinch-able chubby red cheeks. An angel, most would call him on first sight.

Teacher Lily was caught too, but now the poor woman begged to differ.

Though they may be twins, Lily had enough time to deduce who was who. It was the little things that she saw in class. How Alfred, for the life of him, always color outside the lines of their art projects even when he tries so hard not to. Or how Matthew sometimes brings a stuffed polar bear for nap time. He named it Kuma-something. Alfred had a stuffed friend too, albeit creepier, Tony the Alien.

Where their similarities ended was outside. Alfred was a devil let loose on the play ground. He incited foot races between the other kids, foot races that he inevitably wins. In fact, Alfred often invented games that he'll always win in, no matter what, spouting about being The Hero.

Lily glanced at Alfred warily. While she can't deny that he'd been on his best behavior lately, worried what he'll do with if she lets him have the toy gun. Goodness knew he antagonized the Russian kid enough. She already had her own gun-loving brother to keep an eye out for, she doesn't need another one to look after. She shifted her gaze to his brother, next to him, diligently coloring his drawing of what she thought was a maple leaf.

Matthew, in all actuality, is the most well-behaved boy, in and out of class. However, if Alfred won't be called up for the first pick, he can always have Matt choose the toy and just exchange with him. Brothers, the two of those were.

Tick-tock. It was 9:00.

"Okay Alfred, you get to choose your toy first," decided Teacher Lily in soft-spoken voice. "Which one do you want?"

Alfred positively beamed. Need she even ask? "The new laser gun!" he claimed, and as an afterthought, "Please."

A collective groan from the boys resounded in the room. Lily smiled at her youth's antics.

"Come up front and get your prize for behaving so well. Matthew, you get second pick. What do you want?"

Alfred didn't bother listening to his brother's answer. He didn't even notice his brother get up from his seat and come up, slowly trailing behind him. Instead, he speed-walked up front, grabbed the laser gun, and returned to his seat in record time, eager to tear off its packaging. In his almost-savage frenzy to claim the toy, he missed the door opening and the quiet, brief exchange of Teacher Lily and one Alice Kirkland. Everything, saved for _his_ toy, didn't matter right now.

So he didn't see Mrs. Kirkland handing off a tiny hand into his Teacher's welcoming one. He didn't see his whole class turn their attention to one shy, awkward Arthur Kirkland hiding behind their their teacher's legs as she introduced him to everyone. He didn't see until he heard Matthew's own mousy voice say up near them, "Hi, Arthur. I'm Matthew. Wanna play Legos with me?"

He then picked up on his twin's voice and looked up. I thought Mattie was next to me, Alfred thought. Then, for the first time, he saw Arthur Kirkland.

Arthur was new. He was a novelty.

The class was now asking him questions, like how old was he, where did he live, what's his favorite color, and did he have cooties.

Six. England - just moved here. Green. And no, he didn't think so.

Alfred saw that everyone wanted to be his friend.

Alfred wanted to be his friend too, so he guessed it was a good thing Arthur was already off to a corner with Mattie playing with Lego blocks, having been paired up together by Teacher Lily.

Because what's Matthew's is Alfred's isn't it? And what's Alfred's is Matthew's.

So Matthew's Friend = Alfred's Friend.

_Theirs_.

Alfred couldn't help looking over at his unusually excited twin, teaching the wonder-eyed Arthur how to build houses out of Legos. In the most purely unadulterated way, they were children having fun sharing multi-colored blocks between them.

Alfred was always taught to share. By his mother, his teacher, his brother.

Except this time, maybe, Alfred didn't want to share.

He is adorable. He is childish. He is selfish. He knows.

Though, with whom he didn't want to share with whom, he did not know.

_Mine._

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A/N: Gosh. Finished this four minutes before Canada Day was over! :D

Does it sound like I'm channeling Freud's "id" concept in children? I dunno. Might be. Psychology's psyching me out.

Hello, and thank you for reading! If you manage to find grammar mistakes, please PM them to me so I can correct them. Otherwise, please review and tell me what you think.

More with these children next chapter!

EDIT: July 3, 2013 - reworded the ending bit.

Haruhasu


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